Flower of the Battlefield
by Sir Perfluous
Summary: As the threat of war looms over the little hamlet of Donremy, a young mercenary captain goes to seek fame and fortune. What he finds there instead is a renewed purpose and the miracle of hope for the embattled kingdom of France.
1. New Arrivals

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bladestorm THYW, but I still hope you enjoy my little spin on this classic tale.**

* * *

A cold winter wind whistled in the air as the light began to fade from the skies over the French province of Champagne. Early evening was setting in and a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground as three young horsemen made their way up the main road into the small town of Vaucouleurs. Leading the way, Henri Sorel pulled his dark blue cloak a little closer to ward off the chill while shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. Despite the warm clothes that he and his two companions wore underneath, their suits of old battered half-plate armor still absorbed quite a bit of the early January frost and chilled them to the bone. He glanced over and saw that his friend and fellow mercenary soldier Roger Benoit seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"God... I can't wait to reach the tavern," Roger muttered while dusting some snow off his shoulder, "I just want to sit near the fire, have a hot meal, and drink a tall flagon of ale."

To Henri's other side rode Roger's sister Angelique. She took a moment to rub her gloved hands and pat the large coin purse she was carrying at her horse's flank, "Cheer up Roger. Slogging though the woods for two weeks and raiding those supply trains was a good tradeoff. We got paid well for our trouble and hopefully slowed the English down too."

Roger gave a mildly amused snort and turned his green eyes toward his sister, "It's funny Angie. You're always so quick to think about money and even quicker to spend it."

Angie adjusted her winter cap and brushed aside some of her dark hair that fell loose, "We might was well. With the way that the royal armies are retreating, there may not be a France left in a year or two."

Henri listened to his two companions banter and couldn't help but think about the bleak prediction of Angie just now. The kingdoms of France and England had been engaged in bitter warfare for decades now but it had taken its toll on their native country. There were constant threats from the Holy Roman Empire and from the independent duchies surrounding France who aligned themselves with the English. With the help of Flanders and Burgundy, England had continued its push southward driving back the desperate and demoralized forces of King Charles VII ever further.

With the constant fighting and killing, this had been a profitable time to be a mercenary soldier. It was often a dangerous and harsh existence but it offered the greatest opportunity for quick wealth and prestige. By now, hundreds of aspiring knights and nobles had been elevated by both France and England from the survivors of those blood soaked battlefields. Henri's idle thoughts were interrupted as Angie spoke up, "Well? What do you think Henri? If we all don't get killed first, do you think we'll have any place left to call home?"

Henri turned to her and decided to deflect the question by gesturing toward the nearby gate of the French garrison town. "Come on. Let's worry about getting warm and calling this place home for tonight."

As the three friends continued to ride their horses inside and head toward the stables of a familiar tavern, Henri took a moment to savor the warm inviting smells of food and the sounds of music coming from inside. He had been hesitant to answer Angie's question because he was unsure if he shared his companions' pessimism about the future. Of course things looked bleak right now and there had been a time that he had shared the same hopeless attitude. Even to this day, he wasn't quite sure he could explain his own feelings, but it seemed that everything had begun to change several months ago when he had taken a contract to protect the town of Donremy. It was the place where he had seen something miraculous take shape on the battlefield. That was the place where he had met her.

* * *

The shrill sounds of horns filled the autumn air along with the ringing sounds of swords and armor clashing against each other. The golden hue of the afternoon sun hung over the woodlands as a band of English raiders engaged in a furious melee against some elements of the French royal army and their hired mercenary allies. Several combatants on both sides lay either dead or wounded and some of the fallen red leaves of the meadow made it hard to tell if patches of the ground were colored by the leaves or by blood.

Amid the thick of the fighting, Henri wheeled his mount around and slashed an enemy spearman across the shoulder with a swing of his sword. Henri kicked his chainmail clad foe aside and spurred his horse forward to aid his other two comrades who were busy fighting nearby. Angie had already pulled her crossbow and fired a bolt taking down an archer who was hiding in the brush while Roger had already dismounted to fight a trio of raiders on foot with his halberd.

"Three on one, eh? Those odds are almost fair for you," Roger quipped as he used his polearm and waded into battle with the three combatants. The brash mercenary deflected the first attacks and hacked his way through using his aggressive fighting style to try and control the fight. As he struggled to force one of them back, he left himself open for a flank attack by the other two. Fortunately another crossbow bolt came whistling by and struck one of the raiders in the throat while Henri thundered by on horseback and cut down the other enemy from behind with his sword.

The sudden shift in momentum startled the last raider causing him to freeze up in shock and drop his guard. That moment of hesitation was all Roger needed to disarm his foe and scythe the raider down with a brutal swing of his poleaxe. Angie shook her head to her brother as she reloaded her crossbow, "Are you insane? Three against one... on foot?"

"Oh, I had them right where I wanted them," he winked as he hefted his weapon.

"You're welcome," Henri joked sardonically before he turned to see the English raiders break ranks and flee. Two of the other mercenary captains named Magnus and Karen waved their swords nearby and wheeled their mounts to give chase.

"You three carry on with the royal forces. We'll take a squad and chase off these raiders," Magnus called in his lilting Irish accent as he and red headed female comrade took off into the woods after the retreating enemy soldiers.

"Looks like we're earning our pay early," Henri mused to himself as he sheathed his sword and removed his open faced sallet helmet. He took a moment to enjoy the cool refreshing autumn air as it touched his short brown hair.

Nearby, Angie had removed her own helmet and did the same thing before dismounting her horse to join her brother. The two had begun picking over the bodies of their dead enemies looking for valuables and loot. By now, the rest of the regulars of the royal army were busy catching their breaths and sorting out their own dead and wounded.

Roger cut a coin purse off a fallen enemy and pocketed it along with a crafted dagger, "For a little skirmish, this was not a bad score at all. I wager when all is said and done, we might end up earning more from our loot than for protecting that little town."

"We'll take what we can here, but we gave our word to help stand guard over Donremy," Henri said as he came over to help gather up some of their loot.

"I guess those poor farmers must be desperate if they were willing to hire people like us for the job," Angie joked as they stowed the rest of their treasures away and got back on their horses. "We could make more if we joined the front lines near Vaucouleurs to the north."

"We also have a much greater chance of getting butchered in that fight," Henri reminded her, "The royal army is desperate for troops and hasn't been shy about using hired swords like us as cannon fodder. With any luck, the English will get turned back at Vaucouleurs and we'll live to fight another day."

"Well when you put it like that..." Roger snorted in amusement as they rejoined a contingent of royal soldiers down the road leading to their destination, "You make it sound like we have nothing else to live for."

"Oh? And here I thought you also live for getting drunk and whoring around," his sister teased him gently. As the convoy rode on, Henri sat in quiet thought while the siblings Roger and Angie began another one of their petty squabbles. Ever since he and his two friends had struck out from their home in Troyes to find their fortunes as mercenaries, Henri had always believed that staying alive and keeping his friends safe was always the number one priority. It hadn't been easy, but over the past couple years they had eked out a modest sum of saved money... armor, equipment, and supplies notwithstanding.

Still, Roger's comment had made him think again because it was a good question. Sure, there was profit to be made in this war but what were they ultimately fighting for? Outside of the thrill of a battle and the promise of payment at the end of the day, did they just live for the ironic chance of losing their lives in war now? What good would their fortunes be if they all got killed in battle anyway? The three of them were no more than twenty years of age and likely had quite a bit of life left to live but what would that even look like with the kingdom of France falling apart around them?

The royal army was barely competent. The King of France was essentially hiding and his enemies were closing in from all sides eating away more and more land by the day. Even though Henri's home province of Champagne had been all but occupied by the English now, the royal forces here were still willing to make a bit of a stand and they were willing to pay anyone desperate enough to join them. A small shadow of a frown crossed the mercenary's features before he quietly reached for the silver ring he kept hanging from a chain around his neck. Perhaps there was another reason to stay alive, but at this point it all felt so long ago and Henri wondered if she even remembered him... much less paid him a passing thought or prayer. For now, it was best to stay focused on the job and worry about those things at another time. There were still bandits and English raiders to worry about and he wasn't about to let some lowly brigands undo everything he and his friends had worked for to this point.

* * *

A few hours later, the glare from the late afternoon sun hung over the skies as the small detachment made its way from the rolling wheat fields into the quaint farm village of Domremy. Here and there were villagers and farmers who regarded the arriving soldiers with a mixture of fear, contempt, and awe. These people had been raided by the English before and they knew the fear and hardships that came with it. As glad as they were to see this small troop of royal soldiers, the commoners couldn't help but feel a little a little resentment that the royal army hadn't been there to help before until the village hired some soldiers to stand guard during the clashes further north. As much as the people of Donremy feared the encroaching English army, they also felt a little apprehension, worrying that this small contingent of French soldiers would cause similar troubles while doing their jobs here.

As Henri and his companions arrived in the center of the wide town square lined with modest houses and shops, the sounds of chirping birds filled the air while children came up to gawk at their assembled formation of men-at-arms who were clad in their blue tunics and silver steel armor.

"Hmm... it's a nice little hamlet," Angie remarked as the three friends dismounted and secured their gear, "But it doesn't seem particularly important either. If the English were smart, they'd just avoid this place altogether."

She slung her light crossbow over her shoulder while Roger secured his own halberd weapon. He patted his horse's flank, "It would make this a really easy job. How much do you want to bet the English do exactly that?"

"Better not to bet the money that we don't have yet," Henri reminded him with a smile as he secured his arming sword and turned to greet a middle aged man who was approaching the mercenary contingent of soldiers.

Some ways away, it looked like the captain of the royal army's soldiers was being greeted by the village mayor while a lesser official came to speak with the hired swords. The man in question looked to be a simple plain clothed farmer with a tall strong build and short blonde hair. He had a short well trimmed beard and carried himself with unusual confidence. He extended a friendly hand and nodded, "Welcome to Donremy friends."

"Thank you sir," Henri said politely while shaking the farmer's hand.

"No, thank you for coming. I am Jacques d'Arc, the local _doyen_. Part of my job is helping to organize the local defenses. I'm guessing you're captain of these mercenaries?"

Henri gave a little shrug, "At the moment, it seems that way. I'm Henri Sorel. These are my two companions Roger and Angie Benoit."

The two mercenaries gave a polite greeting before Jacques nodded, "Good... well, come along. We'll find a place to put you up for the time being. Once you get settled, we can share news over dinner and then start planning for any English raids that might be coming in the next few days."

Before they could adjourn, there was a slight commotion as they heard the distressed sounds of a horse whinnying while pawing the ground. They turned to see Henri's horse Tempeste in a mild state of agitation while a young boy of about thirteen shied away from the beast.

Jacques frowned as he hurried over and pulled the boy clear, "Pierre! What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sorry father! I just wanted to look at the war horse," the startled boy pleaded in dismay. While Jacques kept hold of his son, everyone continued to watch as a peasant girl who had been with Pierre slowly approached the agitated horse. She was a beautiful young woman in a yellow dress who looked to be about seventeen, with long blonde hair, fair features, and a white lily flower worn over her right ear.

She walked over slowly and began to speak in a gentle soothing manner causing the horse to settle down. She smiled and reached out to gently touch the horse's face and give it a soothing pat, "There now... there's a good boy. Thank you. I'm not going to hurt you."

Angie gave a low whistle while Henri stepped forward and took the reins back with a smile, "Wow... I'm impressed. Tempeste is usually very skittish around new people but you handle him so well."

"I've always been good with my father's horses," the young woman smiled back giving the horse one more little rub, "And I'm sorry if my younger brother caused any trouble just now. He didn't mean any harm."

"No... I'm sure he didn't," Henri agreed giving the boy a reassuring nod before turning back to the girl, "Thank you..."

"Joan," she answered while shaking his hand with a kind smile, "Joan d'Arc. Nice to meet you... Henri, was it?"

"Yes," Henri remarked warmly, "Nice to meet you too."

As he let go of her hand, he turned to Jacques, "This is your daughter and son?"

The farmer and minor town official nodded as he gathered his children, "I'm afraid so. With all this talk about royal soldiers coming into town I guess they wanted to come and see what was going on like everyone else. Joan? Please take your brother back home and make sure you two finish your chores. I'll be along later."

Pierre gave a disappointed huff before his sister took him by the shoulders and began marching him away. Before she did, she gave one last smile and nod of the head toward the mercenaries before she headed home.

"All right, you all can follow me and I'll show you the way to some lodging," Jacques said directing the others off in the other direction to start setting up camp. Henri continued looking off in the direction Joan and Pierre departed before he felt a light clap on his armored shoulder guard.

He turned to see Roger wearing a slightly amused grin before his friend cleared his throat, "Are you coming, Captain? I know I'm not half as good looking, but you might want to follow us instead."

Henri gave him a little shove and rolled his eyes before joining Jacques and the others. Roger was right. It was time to focus. There was still a war to be fought and a contractual job left to be done here.


	2. The Coming Storm

The next morning, Henri and his two friends left the small cozy inn that they were staying at and headed into town for a meeting with the fully assembled force that was going to stand guard over Donrmey. By all accounts, it was a very small number, perhaps fifty at the most. There were a handful of hired mercenaries, a small group of royal army reserves, and a token group of the town militia. As there was no need for fighting just yet, Henri and his friends had dressed down to their simple blue and while tunics while leaving their armor and gear back at the inn. They had instead opted to carry only their personal weapons and a few bags to load up on supplies while in town.

As the troops gathered in the square, they listened to a young herald of the French army as he stood atop some wooden crates and read aloud from a parchment of the latest developments from the fighting further north, "An English force under the Duke of Bedford has met the royal army at Vaucouleurs and prepares to strike. Bands of Danish and Saxon mercenaries hired by the English are believed to be pushing south to test our defenses and the garrison here is to be watchful of them..."

After hearing the news, the royal troops that were present went off to stand at their assigned posts while Henri and the mercenaries took some time to do some drills with the local volunteer militia. Much to their chagrin, the peasant defenders who belonged to the town watch were ill equipped and poorly trained making their morning practice session long and trying.

As noon rolled around, the three friends took a break to rest and assess their situation. Roger wiped his brow as he sat on a crate and began to wipe down his halberd with a cloth, "I'm not sure about you two but I almost think that if the English attacked, it would be better if the militia stayed out of the way. They might get themselves killed along with the rest of us if we have to babysit them in battle."

"Oh come on now Roger. We all started out that way too," Henri replied with an idle chuckle as he sat beside him and sharpened the edge of his sword with a whetstone. "Those volunteers just want to protect their homes and Jacques had a hard enough time coaxing them to take a stand."

"Speak for yourself. You two seemed to get on fairly well last night during the meal and strategy session," Angie remarked as she reclined alongside them and combed out some knots from her long dark hair.

"He just seemed like a good man," Henri shrugged as he continued to work, "He cares about his home and seems to have his heart in the right place. I can respect that."

Roger gave Henri a light elbow to the ribs and grinned, "Well my friend, play your cards right with him and you might walk away from this job with more than you bargained for."

Angie raised a curious eyebrow as Henri glared at Roger before he explained to his sister, "I was under the impression that the _doyen_ 's daughter Joan might have taken a little bit of a shine to our friend here. Or that maybe it went both ways?"

"Don't be absurd. It doesn't," Henri frowned as he ran his whetstone across his blade a little harder, "And even if that was the case, how would that possibly work between a wandering sell-sword and a farm girl?"

"Oh, I think it could be very romantic," Angie teased as she playfully patted Henri's cheek, "The money you earn here could substitute as a dowry and she could join our merry band of misfits too."

"Gives new meaning to the term war booty, doesn't it?" Roger joked causing the two siblings to erupt into fits of laughter at the lewdness.

Henri sighed and mockingly pointed his sword toward them, "Quit clowning around. You two have taken leave of your senses and you're imagining things."

"Oh... I wouldn't be too sure of that," Angie replied as she looked beyond Henri and gave a friendly wave to someone approaching from behind him, "Joan! Hello, nice to see you again!"

Henri turned quickly in surprise and sheathed his sword as the blonde peasant girl approached with a friendly smile and a large covered basket of food. She addressed the three mercenaries with a polite nod, "Hello Henri, Roger, and Angie. I'm glad I found you here."

Henri gave his two friends a quick reproving scowl as they stifled some laughter before Roger asked, "To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit, miss?"

Joan offered the large basket toward them and removed the cover revealing some fresh bread, fruits, nuts, and a wedge of cheese. "My mother and I were bringing some food to my father and the other troops. I thought you might like some too."

Joan gestured over to a small cart where several other women from the village began to distribute some lunch to the troops who were present.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you!" Angie smiled as she gave Joan an appreciative nod and picked up an apple from the basket.

After they had eaten lunch, Joan gathered the leftovers into her basket before giving the three a hopeful look, "I know you three will be getting back to drilling with the town guardsmen soon, but I was hoping I could ask you for a favor too?"

Roger patted his full stomach and gave a little satisfied burp, "I guess it's only fair, right? You did give us a nice lunch after all."

Henri nodded in agreement, "How can we help you Joan?"

The girl picked up a quarterstaff that had been lying in the grass nearby and she planted it in the ground while giving a resolved look, "I'd like to ask you to teach me how to fight."

There was a long silence as the three mercenaries exchanged puzzled looks with each other. Since yesterday, everyone had thought Joan was just another sweet mild mannered farm girl who would be more at home with caring for horses and doing needlework. She seemed too gentle and naive to pick up a sword and want to kill people because no one had expected this request. Henri finally cleared his throat and spoke, "I'm sorry... what?"

"I'd like to learn how to fight," she said gripping the staff and giving it a few light swings, "You three are supposed to be skilled fighters, right? I'm asking you to teach me."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea..." Roger began as Angie came over to take the end of the quarterstaff.

"My brother's right. I don't think the art of war generally mixes well with us girls."

"Well... you're a woman too, aren't you?" Joan asked pointing out the hypocrisy to Angie.

"Yeah... but this is different. You have a home and family here. You actually have something to live for."

"Which is exactly why I want to learn to fight," Joan said stubbornly, "The English are coming again and I mean to defend those things."

She turned to Henri and gave him a pleading look, "Please, let me help all of you?"

Henri looked to her for a long moment and then to his two companions who gave helpless shrugs, uncertain of what to do either. He finally relented and gave a sigh before picking up another quarter staff, "All right... maybe we can teach you a few things to defend yourself at home only. Not on a battlefield, okay?"

Joan gave a grateful smile before Henri handed the staff to Angie to act as her opponent. "All right. You can practice on Angie here. I'll walk you through a few simple techniques to protect yourself. Roger? Maybe you could get back to the town watch and start them on their next drills for now?"

* * *

A short time later, the town militia continued to drill under Roger while Joan practiced more with Angie and Henri on some simple combat moves. As Angie deflected another thrust and follow-up swing from the other end of the staff, she gave a grin, "Hey... not bad Joan. I think you might be a natural at this."

Joan lowered her guard and took a moment to catch her breath before giving an appreciative smile, "Thank you. I... father?"

Everyone turned to see Jacques d'Arc as he called out his daughter's name and strode over, "Joan! There you are! What do you think you're doing?"

He was accompanied by a couple of royal soldiers and they looked on curiously as the _doyen_ met his daughter with a questioning frown. He saw the staff in her hand and narrowed his gaze even more, "Joan? What is going on here?"

"I'm sorry father," she pleaded, "I asked these mercenaries if they could teach me how to defend myself. Please don't get angry with them. They didn't know..."

Henri and Angie exchanged surprised looks before Henri spoke, "Sir, I apologize. We didn't know..."

Jacques raised his hand calmly to silence him, "It's all right Henri. I'm not upset with you. As for you Joan... I thought we've been over this already. The battlefield is..."

"No place for a woman. Yes I know," Joan grumbled while trying to control her frustration, "But you don't understand! The angels..."

"Were all just a dream," Jacques insisted, "Joan, please don't bring that up all over again. There's no need for you to pick up a sword and be a soldier. We already have these men here to protect the village..."

"No father, you'll still need me! The whole kingdom needs me!" she pleaded but her father angrily took the staff and waved her off.

"Joan, you're embarrassing me. What the kingdom... or what's left of it, needs from you right now is to go home and stay out of the way of these soldiers."

"Father... please," she protested but Jacques gave her an angry look and sternly pointed in the direction of home. Joan simply gave a defeated sigh and held back a few tears of frustration before walking away quickly and keeping her head turned away. Unfortunately that didn't stop the royal soldiers who were present from beginning to laugh amongst each other at the crazy notion of a farm girl wanting to fight alongside them on the battle line.

Henri and Angie remained silent until Jacques took a calming breath and gave them an apologetic look, "I'm sorry you both had to see that. My daughter... she can be a bit stubborn and well... let's just say high-minded... maybe too much for her own good. If you'll excuse me, I should go find her and make sure she gets home."

"Allow me sir," Henri offered diplomatically, "You have more important places to be than I do right now. I'll make sure she gets home safely as a way to make up for earlier, even if we don't have to."

Jacques considered it a moment before giving a nod, "All right. I'll leave you to it Master Sorel."

After he departed with the other soldiers, Angie gave Henri an amused look but he raised his finger toward her, "No. I don't want to hear it, Benoit."

"Fine. Suit yourself," Angie chuckled as she sauntered off to join her brother with the training, "Now excuse me while I go continue to make myself useful."

A short while later, Joan trudged down the dirt path just outside of town while riding atop her grayish white horse Celeste. She was in no hurry to get home to her chores and was still feeling a little sore after the argument she had with her father. As she continued to slowly make her way down the road and gaze out over the farm fields, she turned when she heard the sound of an approaching rider from behind. To her complete surprise, she saw that it was Henri atop his own dark brown colored charger named Tempeste.

Upon nearing, he slowed his horse and rode up alongside her giving a polite nod, "Pardon me miss, I hope you don't mind an escort home?"

"Henri? What are you doing here?" Joan asked wiping her face to make sure the last of her tears and redness of the eyes were gone.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay from earlier," he answered honestly, "And... because your father may have asked me to see you home too."

Joan sighed and gave a shrug, "Well thank you. As you can see, I'm fine."

"Ah... I see. Because you didn't look fine earlier," he prompted with a sidelong glance.

She scrutinized him a moment with a mild frown, "If you came to tease me too, then..."

"I didn't come to make fun of you," he said, "Quite the opposite. It's not every day that regular farm girls try to take up weapons of war and ask to stand on the frontlines beside the soldiers. I wanted to ask you again about that."

Joan frowned to herself, "It's silly. You'll laugh at me, just like those soldiers did."

"Try me," Henri said calmly as they rode down the path.

Joan was silent for a time until she gave a nod, "A few years ago... I had a vision in the garden of my home. I was visited by several angels from heaven... especially Saint Michael. It was so beautiful."

Henri regarded her with silent curiosity but let her continue, "I like to believe that God Himself was speaking to me. I was told that it was my duty to help King Charles take back our lands from the English invaders."

"You... actually believed all that?" Henri asked incredulously, "That God and the angels were talking to you and telling you to save all of France?"

"Are you a religious man Henri?"

"Well... I don't know," he admitted, "I guess I still want to believe there's some Almighty power looking down on us from above, but look around Joan. Where is He? All we've had are decades of suffering, wars, and death. Hell, I'm not even sure the royal army can defeat England in battle any more. Those victories have been few and far between."

"Then it's all the more reason for us to believe right now," Joan replied, "Our Lord works in mysterious ways and he's worked through people like you and I in desperate times to light the way for others."

"That's why you wanted us to help teach you to become a soldier today?" Henri asked, "So that you can go help the king and save the whole land?"

"Yes... but more importantly, I want to protect my home and all the people I love from harm," she answered resolutely.

"It's a hell of a story, I'll grant you that. For a minute there, you almost had me believing in that cause too," Henri smiled quietly before she turned to him and looked him in the eyes.

"And what do you believe in Henri? Tell me. What are you willing to fight and die for in this war? Gold? Fame? Earthly pleasure?"

Henri fell silent and looked back toward the road, unsure of how to respond so he decided on erring on the side of honesty, "I... guess I'm not completely sure anymore. I think I'm still trying to figure that one out as I go along."

He gave a slightly sheepish look before he took a steadying breath, "But I do know one thing. I know a little bit about how you feel right now... having felt like the whole world might be against you. You feel they don't believe in you or take you seriously?"

Joan nodded quietly, "So what are you supposed to do about it?"

"You do whatever you have to and make them listen and believe in you... but never at the expense of self preservation. You can't do a whole lot of good for the world or yourself if you just throw your life away either."

Joan gave a small smile, 'Thanks... that almost sounded idealistic for a mercenary... almost."

Henri laughed and echoed her own words, "Believe it or not, we sometimes do good in our own strange ways too."

"I'm sorry again that I don't have anything to give to thank you for all your help today."

Henri shook his head gently. "All I can ask is that you and your family stay somewhere safe during these next few days. If the English army comes, there's no telling how bad the battle might be."

Joan's expression darkened somewhat, "It's a terrible thing, this war. I've listened to the people of our town talking. They say the king's armies have been losing battles and the people of the other provinces are suffering. I wish there was some other way that I could help."

"You really shouldn't need to worry. My friends and I are not going to let the English harm you or your village."

Joan nodded at him quietly for a moment before asking, "You're also from Champagne, aren't you? I can tell by the way you speak."

"I'm from the city of Troyes," he answered with a nod, "Just like Roger and Angie."

Joan continued with a curious look, "You don't speak like a common soldier either. Are you a noble?"

Henri shook his head with a mild laugh. "Thankfully no. My father was a seneschal to a lesser noble in Troyes. I was working to finish my own schooling when I got pulled into the wars. I was hoping to become a teacher, but it seemed fate had other plans for me."

Joan simply gave a warm smile and reached out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, "It's a shame then that you were forced to become a soldier. I think some younger students are missing a good influence."

Henri returned the quiet smile before they came upon her family farm. The mercenary pulled away and wheeled his mount back around to head back toward Donremy proper. "I wish you luck in your quest to save the whole kingdom, however you decide to do it."

"You can still join the quest if you like," Joan said as she dismounted and stroked Celeste's mane.

"For now I think I'll just concern myself with my job here and with battles I know I can win," Henri answered as he urged Tempeste back down the road and gave a wave, "And a battle will be coming. Best if you and your family stay close to home for now... and remember what we taught you today."

Joan smiled and returned the wave as he galloped back off down the road. With a resigned sigh, she turned back around and headed back into her farmhouse where the rest of her family and her mundane afternoon chores awaited her.

* * *

Later that evening, a warm red fire glowed from the hearth as Joan sat on her bed while her mother braided her hair. The young woman glanced over to the table where the remains of their pot roast dinner stew sat. Nearby, her father stood looking out the window in concern while over in the corner of the small house, her younger brother Pierre sat playing with a carved wooden knight figurine.

"Looks like a storm is coming," Joan's father mumbled as they heard a distant rumble of thunder.

"I wonder if that means the royal army is fighting," Pierre asked aloud earning a stern look from his mother.

"You should hope that they don't if you know what's good for you."

Joan sighed to herself, "I still wish there was a way to end all the fighting and suffering."

Her parents looked doubtfully to each other as Pierre pumped his fist, "It could happen! Maybe the royal army will go out there and beat the English tomorrow!"

Joan smiled in amusement as Jacques rebuked the boy again. She could understand her brother's eagerness to help. She often wondered what it would be like to take up arms and help all the brave men and women already fighting to protect their friends and loved ones. It made her think of the mercenaries who she had recently met and befriended. She had heard many stories of sell-swords usually being like mangy dogs who were cutthroat and dangerous. She was sure that was still generally true, but it seemed like there was something different about Henri and his two friends Roger and Angie. Her own father had spoken well of them and seemed to like them.

In a way, they almost struck her like guardian angels who were now standing guard over Donremy and helping to keep the wolves at bay. Joan spent another moment thinking of the help and the kind encouragement that Henri had offered and she couldn't help but smile quietly to herself.

"I don't care," her mother continued, "Until all those soldiers clear out of here, I don't want any of you straying too far away from the house."

"Not all of them are bad mother," Joan pointed out gently.

Her father shook his head wearily and sat down again. "That may be true, but your mother is right. Until those soldiers leave, we're going to stay indoors for a few days. The town mayor wants us all to gather in the village hall tomorrow while the royal army goes to meet the invaders."

After a moment, he turned to his daughter, "Joan? Can you lock up the stables before the storm? I think Celeste might still be outside."

Joan nodded obediently and gave a sigh as her mother finished and put a white lily in her hair. She put on a light robe and left the warmth of the house to search for her horse in the pen outside. Soon enough, she found the young horse as it whinnied and pawed the ground restlessly turning its head to the evening sky. The horse was so preoccupied it didn't even hear the footsteps of the young woman approaching from the barn. "Celeste! There you are. How did you get out here?"

Joan blew aside a strand of her long golden hair and gently took the harness from the white horse, leading it back to their family ranch. The horse whinnied again and turned its head stubbornly toward the distant horizon. Joan followed the gaze of the horse and turned her blue eyes toward the darkening sky in the north. Despite the fading rays of the evening sun, she could see a large dark front of storm clouds threatening in the far distance. As a faint rumble of thunder was heard, Joan put a calming hand on the horse's nose and whispered. "I know Celeste. I'm worried about the soldiers coming this way too. But that was just thunder. It can't hurt us."

The horse nodded its head as Joan gently led it back toward the stables. As she took one last look to the ominous skies, Joan couldn't help but feel uneasy. She prayed the war would not come to her little village of Donremy, but she couldn't shake the feeling that the clouds predicted otherwise. She turned and saw her father and younger brother waving her in from the door of the barn. With a sigh, she took the reins of the young horse and hurried home to take shelter from the coming storm.


	3. Under Siege

Early the next morning, a thin bank of misty fog hung over the grassy fields just outside the village of Donremy. After a rainstorm had passed through during the night, the skies above remained gray and overcast while the grounds had become wet and soggy. With the approach of the English army, the farmers and townspeople of the outlying areas had been told to evacuate their homes and retreat to the relative safety of the town hall until danger had passed. Here and there a few stragglers and peasant farmers hurried up the muddy road to reach the safety of the town while the meager defenders kept watch over the surrounding area.

At the northern edge of the town limits, the three mercenaries joined a handful of royal soldiers and town militia as they lined the low stone wall which marked the border of the settlement. The mood was relatively quiet and uneasy as occasional rumbles of thunder were heard in the far distance. If the French defenders at Vaucouleurs had already engaged the English in battle, it was hard to tell as the weather suppressed the sounds of combat along with the sight of rising smoke along the skyline.

The three mercenary friends had now donned their armor and drew up their cloaks to ward off the chill and the rain while waiting atop their restless horses. Angie checked her crossbow and cast another look out over the dark soggy fields, "I don't like this boys. If the enemy comes this way, we're not going to have a lot of time to act when we spot them."

"I understand Angie. Just keep your eyes sharp and pray it doesn't come to that," Henri nodded as he cast a glance further down the row of the stone wall to where Jacques d'Arc bravely stood leading his own group of town watchmen. Unlike the royal soldiers and mercenaries who were clad in chain mail or plate armor, the peasant defenders had armed themselves with crude leather armor, spears, and whatever sharp farming tools they could use as improvised weapons. No doubt Joan and the rest of her family were safe within the town hall but Henri said a silent prayer that no harm would come to her father who stood at their side.

As a chilly gust of wet wind blew by, a group of their archers tensed up and raised their bows as a rider on a black horse came rushing down the soggy path. As the rider neared, they could see that it was a messenger of the royal army dressed in blue with silver steel armor. He looked disheveled and had a wild look in his eyes as he reared his mount near the walls. When the archers stood down, the messenger cantered over toward the center of the wall where Captain Beaumont of the royal troops waited along with Jacques and the mercenary contingent.

The messenger gave a hasty salute and gasped for breath, "Captain... word from the frontline! The Duke of Bedford has attacked! Our forces in Vaucouleurs hold but our lines have buckled. We count at least two companies of enemy mercenaries who were turned around in the battle and they're headed this way... heavy infantry from the northeast in Waly and northwest at Baulny."

Captain Beaumont's eyes went wide in surprise, "We're not going to be able to hold off a force that large coming from two directions!"

"Perhaps they won't be as well trained if they're just mercenaries?" Jacques offered trying to find a positive in the news.

Henri shook his head, "No. That might be worse. Regular English forces would want to take this town in one piece. Bands of hired mercenaries would be much more likely to pillage everything here and then burn the whole place down."

Jacques' face turned white at the horrific thought before Beaumont gripped his mace in dismay, "If only we had more reinforcements. We're completely trapped."

There was a long pause before Jacques looked up again with a hopeful expression, "That's it... a trap. What if we laid a trap for some of our attackers?"

The other mercenaries seemed to pick up on this as they had often resorted to using trickery and deception in battles before. Roger scratched his chin, "Doesn't the road leading east run between some woodlands and a river?"

Beaumont sighed, "How does that possibly work to our advantage?"

Angie grinned, "If a band of enemy troops are coming up that road, we can take a small force of horsemen to hit them from the treeline and drive them into the river."

"We don't have a lot of horsemen to spare," Jacques pointed out, "The raiders would not be intimidated by a few dozen riders."

"Yes, but they won't know how many of us will be hitting them," Henri said backing up his friends' idea, "The woods will hide our numbers and if we surprise that company, they might think a whole French cavalry squadron is charging them instead."

Beaumont grimaced before giving a reluctant nod, "It's a risky plan but we don't have many other options. Captain Sorel, gather your force and do what you can to drive off those raiders in the east. The rest of us will hold our positions here and defend against the other front coming from the northwest."

Roger gripped his halberd with a grim smile, "All right. It's about time we cracked some skulls and earned our keep."

Henri ignored him and gave Beaumont a quick salute as well as shaking Jacques' hand, "Good luck sir. We'll be back as soon as we can to help."

With that, the three comrades gathered together as many mercenaries and royal horsemen as they could and the armored men-at-arms took off in the other direction to cut through town and meet the enemy forces coming from the east.

* * *

Meanwhile, Joan sat inside the crowded town hall huddled with her family as the other townspeople nervously talked amongst each other. She had heard that a great battle was raging several miles away. The thought of such a battle suddenly made her worry about her family's farm and all their horses. Nearby, her brother Pierre's enthusiasm for a battle had suddenly evaporated as the young boy sat quietly curled up beside their mother.

While Joan's mother talked with the other women of the village, she walked over to a window and quickly poked her head outside when she heard the sounds of clattering armor and horses' hooves. To her surprise, she spotted her three mercenary friends leading about two dozen horsemen as they hurried away toward the northeastern farm fields. She blinked in confusion wondering where they were going. Surely they were not fleeing that battle, were they? Perhaps this was part of some secret plan?

An older villager had told her that the town defenders would be standing guard over the walls to the north, and Joan prayed that no harm would come to them, especially her father who was helping to lead them. After one last lingering glance to the northeast fields, she went back inside the town hall and sat down with her family, waiting and wondering when it would finally be safe to return home.

* * *

As some time passed, the skies grew darker and the chilly wind and rain picked up a little more while the two dozen mounted men-at-arms thundered up the road on their horses. It was an unusual sight with a ragged looking group of royal cavalry alongside a motley squad of mercenary soldiers in mismatched armor. Everyone's riding cloaks fluttered behind them as their horses kicked up mud and stones from their furious ride. They rode until they spotted a wide bend where the road grew a little more narrow between the river to the right of them and the woods to their left. The joint squadron of horsemen angled up the banks and into the treeline before they spotted a large band of mercenary soldiers headed down the road in a dense column formation.

By the looks of them, they appeared to be mostly Danish hirelings who wore some red scarves identifying them as being aligned with the English forces. The rough and savage looking band of shocktroops wore mismatched armor and carried crude weapons such as clubs, shortspears, and handaxes. Most likely these men were geared for close range savagery and the marauding of little towns which supplied French bases. Most importantly, none of the raiders seemed to carry pikes or bows which could spell disaster for armored cavalry charges. With the way things were shaping up, this was looking to be a favorable matchup for the French.

As the horsemen skirted the treeline just out of sight, they took up positions and quietly waited for the large company of marauders to come down the road. Leading the group was a man who almost resembled a sort of Danish barbarian with small horns on his helmet and furs around his armor. Henri turned to Angie and gave a quiet signal, "Angie?"

She raised her crossbow from her concealed position and took aim, gauging the range to her target and the weather conditions. Roger whispered, "You think you can make that shot from here?"

His sister smirked as she steadied her breathing and adjusted her aim slightly, "We'll find out in a minute now, won't we?"

She loosed the bolt and it went whistling through the air until it struck the leader of the enemy troops and dropped him off his horse. The raiders halted in confusion and and looked around as the barbaric looking captain thrashed on the ground for a few moments before collapsing in a pool of his own blood. As the English hirelings turned toward the treeline to spot the shooter, they were suddenly surprised as two dozen French horsemen in heavy armor began to emerge from the woods in a line. The Danes scrambled to regroup having been caught in the open with their column's flank exposed. Henri gave a shout and raised his sword as one of the royal horsemen blew a horn to sound a charge. "Strike them down!"

The French cavalry surged down the wooded hill drawing their swords and lances before crashing down on the hapless band of mercenary infantry with a wave of steel and hooves. The front rank of enemy soldiers were mowed down and trampled as chaos and panic spread among the ranks behind them. Swords flashed and the ringing sounds of war cries and steel filled the air as the riders lashed out with vicious strikes. The rear ranks of the marauders broke and began to flee while a crowd of the enemy mercenaries retreated from the onslaught and made a frenzied dash into the river gambling that they would be safer there. Amid the furious melee, Angie fired her crossbow from atop her horse and kicked away another foe while a mounted Roger plowed through a crowd of Danes with broad reaping swings of his poleaxe killing several at a time.

As Henri wheeled his horse Tempeste around and slashed a raider across the face with his sword, he turned to meet another mounted enemy who pushed through to try and challenge him. Henri brought his sword back around in time to deflect the foe's flanged mace which would have torn into his armor had it struck. As Tempeste bucked and pushed against the opposing horse beside it, Henri surprised the English hireling by grabbing the man's weapon arm and pulling him off balance before thrusting his blade into the enemy's exposed side. The mounted marauder gave a cry and toppled off his horse amid a spray of blood before the French knights made another push. Angie trampled another enemy before giving a wave to her comrades, "The enemy line is breaking!"

As she pointed out, the surprised column of enemy troops that hadn't been mowed down or cut to ribbons were now tumbling into the river or fleeing in a disorganized rout back toward Waly. The French horsemen circled back around and gave a rowdy cheer, encouraged by their own surprise victory here. No doubt that company of raiders were the only foes in that direction, but at least the advance of the English allies here had been stalled. Roger and Angie grinned bumped each others forearms in celebration before hopping off their horses to loot the fallen enemy.

By now, the skies had grown darker and the rain picked up a little more helping to wash off some of the blood and grime from the armored French soldiers. Henri quickly used his cloak to wipe away some blood on his blade before sheathing it and steering Tempeste back the way they came, "Come on everyone, we shouldn't linger here. We have to get back to Donremy."

"But the loot..." Roger protested as a few other allied mercenaries picked over the mangled remains of the Danish marauders.

"Will still be here later," Henri replied, "If Donremy gets overrun, then none of us get paid and the English put our heads on pikes."

"He makes a good argument," Angie sighed in reluctance as Roger helped his sister back on her horse, "I don't like that alternative either."

The Benoit siblings mounted up and rejoined Henri as the mercenary men-at arms formed up with the royal horsemen. A few riders in the lead gave a shout before the cavalry squadron turned and began another rapid dash back down the soggy roads to aid their besieged allies back in town. As the rumbling of thunder grew louder, they could only hope that they would arrive in time and that Donremy could hold out from the assault approaching from the west.

* * *

Meanwhile, Jacques d'Arc stood along the waist high stone wall at the northern perimeter of Donremy. His band of town militia had been mixed in with small groups of royal soldiers who stood ready with their swords, spears, and bows. The peasants all looked fearful and uneasy and Jacques couldn't blame them either. They were simple farmers and artisans, not battle hardened soldiers. He could only hope that they could stand their ground here and that their allied horsemen would be able to rout the enemy in the east. Horrible images of the town burning filled Jacques with dread and he resolved he wouldn't let anything happen to his wife, his daughter Joan, or his son Pierre. The men of the town watch were looking to him for some leadership and he wouldn't let any of his family or fellow villagers down.

Moments later, his heart began to race as he heard an archer call out a warning, "Saxon mercenaries!"

Jacques gripped his short sword and wooden buckler as the defenders looked out into the rainy gloom only to see a small horde of mercenary invaders. The Saxon hirelings all wore red scarves and clothing signifying their allegiance to England while they advanced with their clubs, spears, and axes. As the French archers let loose several volleys of arrows, the Saxons surged forward while Jacques waved his sword encouraging the defenders at the wall. "Brace yourselves! Stand firm!"

The first wave of Saxon berserkers crashed against the frontline and met a wall of steel and wood. At the center of the line, Captain Beaumont and Jacques stood urging their men to hold their ranks while archers fired sporadic volleys into the invaders' ranks. Angry shouts and ringing weapons filled the air as the defenders of Donremy locked into savage hand to hand combat with the enemy company of raiders. Several fighters on both sides fell to the muddy ground while Beaumont struggled to hold the center intact and stem the advance of the Saxons. As the town militia faltered, Jacques slashed aside a foe before smashing his shield into the face of another enemy refusing to give an inch, "Don't let up men! Fight for Donremy!"

While Jacques tried desperately to rally some support, he was blindsided and struck in the side by an bolt from a Saxon crossbowman. He gave a gasp and staggered sideways before falling to the mud. As he lay helpless and wounded, another enemy raider loomed over him with a rusted hatchet and prepared to bring the weapon down in a killing blow but it never came. There was a thundering of hooves and the front row of Saxon invaders were run over by French horsemen who had just arrived to reinforce the defenders. As another fierce skirmish broke out, Henri and his comrades cleared some of the ground as the defenders forced the English allies back into a temporary retreat. The muddy and bruised defenders gave another tired cheer amid the falling rain as they came over to praise the horsemen for the aid.

Henri gave a relieved sigh as he watched the defenders enjoy a temporary victory until he heard Roger call out to him from nearby, "Henri! Come quick! Jacques is down!"

Henri spun around in dread and quickly slogged across the muddy ground to where Roger and Angie had dismounted and were now tending to the wounded _doyen_ of the village. Angie had taken a cloth bandage and did what she could to stem the bleeding from the wound while Roger steadied Jacques and poured some water to clean the wound. As Henri bent down to offer his own help, Jacques groaned and gave a weary look, "Captain Sorel... you returned. The enemy?"

"Routed. We turned them back in the east," Henri answered while trying to give a weak smile.

"That's good news," Jacques grunted as he reached for his side, "But my men need me..."

Angie stopped him, "No. You need to stop and rest. We'll take you back in town and get you some help."

The doyen simply gave a nod and reluctantly acquiesced, being too tired and hurt to protest. As Roger gently hoisted him up, Henri put a hand on Jacques' shoulder, "You and your men were very brave today. You fought well sir."

"I have a lot to fight for here Captain," Jacques replied with resolution in his voice, "No matter how hopeless things look right now, someone has to keep the faith and believe that we can win... for the sake of everyone else."

As the siblings carried Jacques off toward the village hall along with some of the other wounded, Henri was left standing at the wall thinking over Jacques' words about purpose and conviction. The battle was far from over and the village was still in danger from a second follow-up attack. With the _doyen_ now wounded in battle, Henri could only wonder if he'd be able to share the same belief as Jacques and his daughter that faith would be enough to see them through these darkest of times.


	4. Unwavering Resolve

Within the confines of the village hall and some of the surrounding buildings, the wounded were dragged in to safety while the town defenders withdrew to take a brief rest from the fierce combat that had taken place at the northern limits of Donremy. After finding a cot to lay Jacques down on, Henri and his companions tiredly removed their helmets and caught their breaths while a town doctor came over to see him. The main hall was getting flooded with the tired and injured causing some distress to the local families who had taken refuge there.

Women and children went to see their husbands and fathers who had helped fight off the first attack while the royal soldiers stood off and regrouped with their own comrades. As Angie passed a water flask and shared with her two friends, she looked up to see Captain Beaumont of the royal army walk in to assess the situation. He looked tired and haggard while he tried to wipe some of the blood and dirt off his own steel cuirass. He nodded toward the mercenaries and spoke, "I heard Jacques d'Arc was hurt in the fighting. Is he going to be all right?"

Roger glanced over to where Joan and the rest of her family had gathered around in concern while the doctor did his best to treat the wounded man. "He's still alive. That's a blessing in and of itself."

Beaumont ran a hand over his dark mustache, "Well we could use more blessings right now. We have a handful of dead and at least a score of men wounded."

That meant that despite the success at the wall it had been costly. The effective fighting strength of the town defenders had been diminished by half and it was looking like a second attack was coming once the enemy mercenaries regrouped themselves.

"These people don't know how bad things look right now, do they?" Angie mused quietly, "Do we tell them the truth? That we may have to make a last stand here?"

Henri looked over again to where Jacques lay in his makeshift cot, struggling through the pain of having the crossbow bolt removed and his wound staunched. He looked a little pale from having lost a lot of blood and it was hard to think there was still some glimmer of hope.

Jacques wife rose from her husband's side and came over to the mercenaries wearing a distraught look, "You! Mercenaries! This is your fault! How could let this happen?"

Henri balked as she feebly began to pull at his cloak, "You were supposed to help protect this place and my husband! Joan saw you ride off from the walls and now you come back?"

"Mother, they there helping fight off another band of enemies coming from the east," Joan explained as she came over to that corner of the hall, "Father just told me what happened. Please don't be angry."

Joan's mother paused and gave a tired look to the soldiers, "Is this true?"

Captain Beaumont nodded, "Yes Ma'am. We were under attack from two sides. These mercenaries stopped the other force and came back to help protect us at the wall."

"But we didn't make it back fast enough," Henri grimaced looking toward Joan, "I'm very sorry your father got hurt."

Joan simply nodded and came back to her father's side as he lay drinking some water offered by Pierre.

He turned and looked to his daughter, trying to put on an encouraging smile while taking her hand, "Joan… I'm glad you're here. I promise everything is going to be okay now."

"I'm not sure I believe you father," she said in concern, "You're not well and the other soldiers here still look troubled. There's still danger, isn't there?"

"Joan," her father sighed, "This is not something you need to concern yourself with right now."

"No. You're wrong, father. This does concern me," Joan argued as she balled her fists while she sat, "I've seen enough here today and I want to help. There are many good people here risking their lives to help our town and I want to help too."

"Joan, you are not going out there," Jacques protested and gestured to his bloodied side, "Look here. This is why you should not get involved the war."

"It's exactly why I should get involved," she retorted, "I refuse to watch as you and other people I care about get hurt out there. I'm tired of watching our people suffer at the hands of the English and I'm tired of living in fear. I say we need to stand up together… all of us here... today."

The three mercenaries stood silently while listening and feeling the young woman's words galvanize their own will to fight on. It was hard to tell if there was something unnatural about her or maybe even divine, but she spoke with such surprising conviction that it was hard not to listen and feel moved.

"Be serious now Joan," Jacques replied, "Even if what you said about God and his angels are true, then think… how could a young woman who barely knows how to swing a sword possibly go about saving all of France?"

"Maybe I just need to start by saving my own family and my own village," she said with determination as she rose to her feet and picked up her father's sheathed short sword. She tied it to the waist of her skirt and tried not to let on how awkward it felt to her before she headed for the door.

Her mother and brother came over to try and stop her but she gently tried to move them aside. Her mother pleaded, "Joan! No! You can't go!"

"You know I have to," Joan said prying her mother off, "If we are going to save our town and defeat the English, we have to believe that we can do it."

Jacques called out to his daughter before sinking back into his cot with exhaustion as the rest of his family came over to help him. Joan gave an apologetic look before turning to head out the door, "I'm sorry father… I promise I'll come back soon."

The young woman pushed through the crowd of townspeople and soldiers who mobbed the front of the village hall followed by Henri and the other mercenaries. Once outside, Joan looked to the skies and saw that the rain had begun to give way and the gray skies had turned a little brighter as the midday bells tolled from the local church.

She picked up a discarded spear as well as a blue pennon with the royal fleur de lis on it. She tied the pennon to the end of the polearm before stepping up atop a few supply crates and barrels. She took a deep breath and gave the crude makeshift battle standard a wave as she spoke in a loud voice to address the weary and dejected soldiers and townsfolk who were present. "People of Donremy! Soldiers of France! Hear me! Do not give in to despair! Now is the time for us to come together to protect this town from our English tormentors!"

"Girl, you must be mad!" one of the villagers called out in challenge, "The English are preparing to attack again and when they do, they'll kill us all!"

"He's right Joan!" another townswoman called, "The king's soldiers can't even protect us from the English. You really expect we can stand against their warriors?"

"I say the English are not invincible!" Joan called back trying desperately to keep her voice loud and sure while she had the peoples' attention, "We've won battles against them before and I say we can do it again, right here! I only ask that you have faith in my words and in God that He has ordained our victory today!"

Roger and Angie exchanged an awed look with each other after listening to Joan speak, "Wow... is she for real?"

The crowd began to murmur and stir as Joan stepped back down to address the people at their level. When she did, she was immediately surrounded by several royal soldiers who had seemed to take some insult from her presence. As the trio came closer they saw Joan standing her ground while she was encircled by the grizzled royal soldiers. They all began laughing with derision as one of the sergeants of the royal soldiers started to mock her, "Come on now. Surely you're joking. This is not a game little girl. You honestly think you can just step up and act like some general? That you can actually make a difference standing on the frontline?"

"This is my village and I will fight for it," she answered as she gripped the pennon in her hand and gave a determined look. This only caused the soldiers to erupt into another gale of scornful laughter.

The sergeant grabbed the spear from her hand and turned up his nose, "The very idea... women don't belong on a battlefield. She should stay quiet and remain at home with their needlework."

Joan narrowed her eyes and spoke with a defiant but level voice, "I don't have to be a man in order to want to protect my village."

I think you should go and let the real men do the fighting here darling," the soldier scoffed but he was suddenly silenced as Henri and his companions pushed their way into the circle. Roger and Angie glared at some of the men who were present to get them to back off while Henri strode forward and pulled the spear away from the mocking soldier.

He gave a man a slight shove in the chest to get him away from Joan while wearing a protective scowl, "And I think you should leave the girl alone. If you're so sure of that, then go prove that you're as tough as you say you are."

"I'm not going to take any lip from some farm girl and a bunch of mangy sell swords," the grizzled sergeant growled toward Henri before turning away and walking off with a few of his comrades. As the small crowd continued to buzz, Joan gave a grateful look to her mercenary friends and graced them all with a quiet smile, "Everyone... thank you."

Henry handed the spear back to her and gave a little nod, "Here. I think you're going to need this."

Joan furrowed her brow thoughtfully as she took back the improvised pennon, "Henri... you and your friends have done enough for this village already and I know this is mostly our fight now. We didn't pay you to come and throw your lives away for nothing so I'd understand if you wanted to leave now."

Henri gripped the hilt of his sheathed sword and let his own blue eyes meet hers, "I can't speak for my two friends, but I've decided to stay. After hearing the things you said to your father and to this crowd right now, I think there's something worth fighting and dying for here that's greater than gold... peace for our kingdom and pride in ourselves."

The Benoit siblings exchanged a quiet look with each other and nodded in agreement before they stepped forward to join the others in solidarity. Joan graced them with another grateful smile before looking to Henri, "So you've changed your mind? You really believe in this cause? In God's will for France?"

"Honestly... I'm still not completely sure," he admitted with a faint grin, "But I know I want to believe again and that counts for something, doesn't it?"

Joan beamed in gratitude before a horn sounded and some of the royal soldiers began looking toward the north end of the town. They drew their weapons and listened as one of their comrades called out from a rooftop, "The English raiders are attacking again! They're making for the town center!"

At that signal, Joan took her pennon and gave it another wave determined to galvanize everyone's spirits and rally the people around her once again, "People of Donremy! Stand together! Now is the time to show England we are not afraid!"

This encouraged many of the people and they gave a cheer as the soldiers fell in line and other townspeople who were originally non-combatants picked up anything they could use as a weapon. Henri took up a steel shield from a fallen royal soldier and gathered his comrades along with a few others to act as an honor guard for Joan. He gave a wave of his weapon as they fell into formation, "Come with me!"

As the defenders hurried on foot in a massed column, the could see smoke rising from the edge of town where the renewed assault by the invaders was coming from. When they got closer, they could see some light from the flames engulfing the rooftops of a few buildings while the smell of smoke and ash grew stronger. Joan gripped her pennon and tensed her muscles as she led her small "army" forward to drive out the raiders. They rounded a corner and saw another large band of the Saxon mercenaries already looting a few empty homes while putting others to the torch.

Having been caught off guard and not expecting to see such a large group of local defenders gather to challenge them, the mercenaries wearing English red stopped what they were doing and stared dumbly for a moment while the ragtag company of French soldiers and townspeople did the same. They were immediately spurred to action as Joan waved her banner and gave an encouraging shout, "Forward! Charge them!"

The armored French royal soldiers in blue tunics led the push with their raised shields followed by their mercenary allies and the townspeople who fanned out into the large northern square. A fierce melee broke out as steel met steel and combatants pushed against each other to gain an upper hand. While the Saxon marauders had the advantage of chainmail armor and experience, it only did so much against mobs of town watchmen and angry peasants wielding sickles, pitchforks, and clubs. Amid the ferocious hand to hand that raged, Roger swung his halberd in wide arcs scything down a couple of Saxons with the fearsome axe head to clear a path for Joan. To Joan's sides, Henri and Angie protected her too. Henri battered a raider back with an armored shoulder check before bashing another one down with his shield and gutting him with his sword. At the other flank, Angie shot a charging raider before drawing her own short sword and using it to defend herself at close range against the onslaught.

Amid the shouting, the ringing of steel, and the suffocating heat from the blaze around them, it almost felt as if they were trapped in some hellish terrifying inferno. In the confusion and chaos, Joan found herself buffeted around and separated from her mercenary protectors. Here and there she swung her spear to strike away enemies until she realized she was now open and vulnerable. That was when she saw two Saxon warriors in red capes move toward her. They wore murderous looks and carried hand-axes as they stalked closer like predatory wolves. Joan leveled her spear again and took a defensive stance, trying her best to give them a warning look. The first Saxon scoffed in amusement and attacked first raising his weapon for a blow.

Joan planted her feet and swung her spearhead to ward off the strike before feinting a thrust to give her foe pause. As he did, she shifted her weight and used a move Angie taught her to twirl the other end of the weapon around to smash it into the side of the raider's head. Joan gave a cry as she let her own fear and adrenaline take over using her spearhead to slash the leg of the Saxon and drop him to the ground in a heap. She had been so focused on her enemy, she momentarily forgot about the other mercenary to attacked her from the side. Joan gasped again and raised her spear just in time to block the strike but the sheer force knocked her off balance and swept the weapon out of her hand. The girl fumbled at her side for her father's shortsword but before she could draw it, the raider slammed his shoulder into her and knocked her over to the dirt. As she toppled over in a stunned heap, the white lily flower she wore in her hair also fell to the ground.

Amidst the vicious melee that continued to swirl about, Henri spotted Joan go down and fumble her sword. He and his two mercenary companions had grouped close to each other and were already fighting off a handful of raiders in a violent tussle. They were all banged up and beginning to tire, but they were now running on pure adrenaline and battle fury as well. He slashed aside his foe and disengaged calling for his two friends to hold the line. Henri turned and sprinted as fast as he could in his armor as the raider loomed over Joan while she scrambled back to her feet. The Saxon growled and stamped down on the fallen flower with his boot before he prepared to finish the pesky farm girl off.

Just as the axe came down, Henri threw himself sideways and tackled Joan to get her clear of harm. As the two fell over each other and rolled over, Henri grunted at having the Saxon's axe clip his armored pauldron and bruise his left shoulder. He and Joan exchanged a quick look before the raider struck again with a downward chopping blow but Henri raised his round steel shield just in time to block it. Under the cover of the shield, Joan gripped her father's sword and burst forth under Henri's arm, surprising the raider by plunging her blade into the enemy's unprotected side. The marauder dropped his axe and gave a gurgling grunt before collapsing backwards into the dirt.

Joan gripped her bloodied sword and stared at it for a moment before Henri placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, "Joan, are you okay?"

She took a deep breath and nodded before rising up and waving the other defenders onward with her sword, "Keep pushing! We're almost there! We can win the day!"

Having witnessed her courage and her continued resolve, the peasant defenders and the royal soldiers gave a spirited cheer and redoubled their efforts pushing back against the raiders until the enemy mercenaries broke ranks and fled in a rout. As the last of the broken enemy company turned and fled for their lives, the allies gave several victorious cheers and whoops of joy. As some of the smoke from the fires started to lift, the gloomy skies above began to clear as well. Here and there, columns of late afternoon sunlight streamed down from the heavens seeming to offer hope and divine favor on the outcome of that skirmish. Bodies of dead and wounded littered the square as the battered and exhausted survivors grouped together continuing to celebrate.

The villagers and soldiers who had seemed to doubt Joan's words and courage before now began to surround her offering their praise and adulation. Their victory was in part because of her inspiration and determination to prove that Donremy could stand up for itself even in its darkest hour. While Joan found herself suddenly mobbed by her fellow townsfolk, Henri stopped in surprise to see the trampled flower in the dirt that was once worn in Joan's hair. He picked it up gently with his dirty gauntlet and tucked it away to safety before Roger and Angie approached giving tired waves.

"Well, we've survived another bad one," Roger grinned as he clasped Henri's hand and slung an arm over his comrades, "God must have a sense of humor after all."

Henri couldn't help but laugh a little as he put his other arm over Angie and the three stood watching the villagers cheer on a bemused looking Joan. Angie turned and sighed, "She's really something, isn't she?"

Henri simply nodded with a smile as he looked on, "Yeah... she is."

Roger clapped him on the shoulder guard and the three mercenaries came over to push their way through to Joan. As the peasant girl greeted her comrades, she was surprised as both Henri and Roger quickly lifted her up on their shoulders while Angie retrieved Joan's improvised spear/pennon and handed it to her. Joan simply laughed and gave the flag another wave inspiring a fresh wave of cheers and laughter from the villagers and soldiers present.

As the blue flag fluttered in the cool autumn air and its fleur de lis caught the light of the sunlight breaking through the clouds above, the cheering grew even louder. Even if the little town of Donremy was just a lesser skirmish in the overall battle at Vaucouleurs, the people of the village felt like they had won the whole war against the English, even if it was only for that day. As a grimy faced Joan continued waving the flag with her new friends, she hoped that this spirit and belief in the people could continue on until the kingdom of France was once again whole and that a lasting peace was restored.

* * *

 **A/N:**  
 **For those who have come this far, stay tuned. One more chapter to go to wrap things up here.**


	5. Promises and Hope

The town of Donrmey had been spared from the whims of violent mercenaries and the English assault stalled around Vaucouleurs. Despite the minor setback in Champagne, the bulk of England's forces gained ground in Ile de France continuing their inexorable advance southward. For now, the people of Champagne would be able to enjoy a brief respite from the fighting as the attention of the war shifted toward the city of Orleans.

Several days had passed and with the withdrawal of English troops from the area, Donremy was able to breathe easier and begin focusing on recovering from the damages. There had still been many people who were hurt and killed, but nowhere near as bad as it could have been had the marauders had their way. After some efforts to clean the streets and salvage any undamaged goods, townspeople got back to work caring for their injured and rebuilding the property that had been destroyed in the attack. While the people of Donremy got back to work and tried to resume some sense of normalcy through their daily routines, there were hints of a different spirit in the air. It was one of greater confidence and purpose that had seemed to be missing before.

For now, that purpose lay in recovering and that was what Jacques d'Arc set out to do. Despite the wound he received in battle, the town's doctor had told him that he would recover in time as long as he rested. After a brief rest for themselves, Joan and the three mercenaries busied themselves with aiding some of the other villagers who had lost their homes or businesses. With the help of some of the royal soldiers, they got a head start in salvaging some building materials and helping to get started on new structures until word came that the English were on the move again.

It had been two days since the small contingent of royal soldiers had left to rejoin their army and meet the English on another battlefield. On that cool bright afternoon, Joan had gone by herself to a spot just outside the town limits where a row of freshly dug mounds lay near the shade of some trees. She had brought a large basket with her filled with lily flowers and as she walked over the rows, she placed some of the flowers upon each mound. These were the graves of the enemy mercenaries who had perished in the attack and while the people of the village didn't want to go to too much trouble for the bodies of their foes, they didn't want to be completely inhuman either. Joan placed a few more of the flowers over the last of the mounds and took a moment to enjoy the cool autumn breeze before she turned around and was met by a surprising sight.

Under the shade of the nearby trees were Henri, Roger, and Angie who were all wearing their gear and waiting patiently on their mounts. She headed over and gave them a curious expression, "I'm sorry... I wasn't expecting to see you three here today."

"We didn't think you'd be here either making an offering for the enemy dead," Henri observed as he looked at the carpet of lily petals strewn across the ground.

Joan nodded and gestured over the field, "I had wanted to stand up and fight here to ease the suffering of our people but I realized something else in that battle we fought... that people and soldiers suffer on the side of the English too. Even if these might have been bad men, they don't deserve to suffer either and I thought I'd do something kind for them anyway. It seemed like the right thing to do."

The mercenaries exchanged a curious look between them before Henri offered his hand to Joan, "While we're here, can we give you a ride home? Your parents will probably be expecting you."

She nodded and let Henri pull her up to ride behind him before the three began trotting from the green towards Joan's farm. As they road down the quiet country path, they looked out over the farm fields which were in various states of being harvested. Joan noted that the three had packed their belongings and looked to be leaving to be headed out soon. "You will be leaving Donremy?"

Angelique nodded, "We go where the fighting is and coin be greatest, Joan. The French army is already on the move again and so will their contracts."

Roger gave a sigh in agreement, "She's right. As nice a place as this is, I'm afraid there's not much for the three of us to do here now that the danger has passed."

Joan gave the Benoit siblings a slightly disappointed look, "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope this doesn't sound too silly, but I think I'm still going to miss you three."

"Oh, you never know. We may find our way back here one of these days when we're passing through," Angie reassured her, "Right Henri?"

"Right," he answered as they continued on down the road. After a short time, he spoke again addressing Joan behind him, "So this is it? You're going to get back to work here in helping to rebuild Donremy?"

"For now," she said with a nod, "But I'm still serious about what I said before. I want to join the royal army and speak to King Charles himself so that he believes and knows that heaven is on our side."

"After what you did a few days ago in rallying the people to defend themselves, I have no doubt now he might listen too. That was something very remarkable Joan."

"Then promise me you three will remember that when you go off to fight again on the frontlines," Joan said, "Promise me you'll keep the faith?"

As they came up to the front gates of Joan's farm, Henri dismounted first and helped her down before giving a nod, "I promise, but only if you do me a favor in return."

Joan tilted her head with a curious look as he reached to his side and produced a bulky pouch. He handed to her and said, "Take care of your family and your town first before you decide to go crusading. This will help you along."

Joan took the pouch and opened it only to see that it was filled with coins. She blinked in confusion and looked up in surprise, "What is all this?"

"A donation... from my share of the loot and the contract to protect this village. I took enough to get by and figured I'd give the rest to you and your town to do with as you will."

Joan stared at the large pouch of money in astonishment, "I... thank you... but I don't understand. Why are you doing this?"

"Like I said before, sometimes we selfish cynical mercenaries do good in our own strange ways."

The Benoits exchanged another warm smile with each other while Henri gave a little laugh and reached in his other belt pouch. He produced the trampled white lily flower that he had recovered from the battlefield. He offered it to her and said, "Oh... and I thought you might want this back too. It's a little worse for wear, but it might keep a while yet."

Joan smiled at the offering before shaking her head and gently closing his hand back over it, "No. Please keep it as a reminder of our friendship and our promise to France."

Henri nodded and took her hand that had been enclosing his, bringing it to his lips. He gave her hand a chaste little kiss before letting go and mounting his horse again. "Until then."

Joan stood by her front gate giving a wave and a smile as the three mercenaries replied with a little salute and turned to ride away down the quiet country road. After a brief companionable silence, Roger scratched his chin while they trotted along, "So... if we're going to go save France and get rich while doing it, where to next?"

Angie looked to the sun in the skies, "Well... the French army will be regrouping at Vaucouleurs before moving on again. Maybe we can find more work there with the garrison?"

Henri smiled and gave a quiet nod of resolution, "All right then. What are we waiting for? We have work to do."

* * *

Back in the present, the three mercenaries came in out of the cold and entered the inn. They shook off the last of the snow and took a moment to enjoy the light and the warmth of the nearby hearth. There were several occupied tables where patrons were having plates of hot cooked food and laughing over some mugs of ale. After weeks of raiding the enemy out in the snowy wilderness, the return to civilization was a welcome change. In one corner of the merry room, a minstrel began to strum a lute and sing a quiet tune in the background while other patrons milled about enjoying their refuge from the ice and snow outside.

Roger clapped Henri on the back and began heading into the common room to grab a table, "Hey Angie, I seem to recall Henri said he was going to buy the first round of our drinks when we got here, didn't he?"

His sister laughed and left to join him as she picked up on the ploy, "Why yes. I remember now. Thanks Henri! You're the best."

Henri watched them walk off into the crowded common room and shook his head with a smile. At the moment, he was too tired and hungry to protest so he really didn't mind getting dragooned into paying for a meal. He headed over toward the main bar counter to place an order when he saw a small group of women go by wearing the blue and white clothing of horsemen in the French royal army. By his estimation, they may been messengers or heralds. Considering Vaucouleurs had become a garrison town for the royal army, it wasn't surprising to see such people in the local shops or taverns either.

When he turned back toward the counter, he froze as he caught sight of a familiar young woman with long blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and a distinct white lily over her ear. Unlike the last time he had seen her many months ago, she was now wearing a royal blue tunic of the royal army underneath a feminine suit of half plate armor. As she got up to follow her female companions out, she also stopped when her eyes met his.

Henri remained transfixed in place with a stunned expression as she hesitantly approached with a smile, "Henri? Henri Sorel? Is that you?"

He blinked and nodded dumbly prompting her to give an amused look, "So… you don't remember me? You and your friends had come to save me and my village when we were ensnared by a band of mercenaries."

Henri shook his head and returned the quiet smile, "No... how could I ever forget you, Joan d'Arc? I… what are you doing here?"

Joan gestured to her uniform and armor and gave a slightly sheepish look, "I left Donremy to volunteer in the war. I'm presently with the French forces here guarding the city of Vaucouleurs and I hope to speak with Captain Robert de Baudricourt so he can grant me a chance to petition King Charles himself."

Henri shook his head in amazement, "That sounds crazy… do you think he'll actually listen?"

"He will have to if the talk of an English offensive in Orleans is true," Joan answered, "Once the enemy attacks, there is sure to be a formal recruitment."

Henri nodded, "And the royal army will no doubt call on us mercenaries to join their ranks."

Joan gave a ghost of a smile as she reached out to gently touch his arm, "If that's what fate lies in store for us, then it would please me if we could fight alongside each other once again."

She gave a quiet nod and lingered for a moment before stepping aside to join her female riding companions as they waited by the door. Before she left, Henri turned and called out to her, "I hope so too. And Joan... it was good to see you again."

Joan graced him with another quiet smile before leaving the tavern with her cohort. Henri watched her depart in silence before turning back to the bar counter. Fate was certainly strange. He had already witnessed what could only have been described as a little miracle in Donremy and a personal epiphany as well. Perhaps there was something remarkable about this girl named Joan and perhaps there were more miracles yet to come. Maybe there was still some hope for France and a reason to believe that they could win this war. What that future would look like, he couldn't be certain. But he did know that if Joan believed in them, then it was up to the people to believe in themselves and her mission. He resolved that once she gave her next call for aid, he would follow that noble vision and to help Joan spread those white flowers of hope across the battlefield until the kingdom was safe and France was once again at peace.

* * *

 **A/N:**  
 **To anyone who made it this far, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed my little tribute to this unique historical setting and to an underrated strategy game. Maybe one day I'll get around to doing a full length series about the exploits of Joan, Henri, and the rest of their mercenary friends to save the kingdom. Until then, thanks again for the interest and support!**


End file.
